


Stay the Night

by SuiCausa



Series: Iron Bull's Rules [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, References to Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuiCausa/pseuds/SuiCausa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their first night together, Male Mage Lavellan's been avoiding The Iron Bull, unwilling to face part of himself he thought he had moved past. Reports of an attack on his clan leave him in a state only Bull can pull him out of. Edited: Added the last part I forgot to copy over, it's complete now!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay the Night

Lavellan let out a frustrated hiss as he eyed the report sitting innocently atop his desk, stopping his pacing for a moment to rub his temples and try to contain the urge to yell or throw something. He had been out in the field for nearly a month straight with a small group, tracking down Venatori in a god forsaken desert that could have been happily left to rot were it not for his advisor's concerns .  
  
He had been kept in the loop as much as possible through scouts, missives and runners. He’d spent his days hunting down and destroying his enemies, his nights falling asleep over paperwork or on rare occasions, managing to collapse into his bedroll to exit his responsibilities for a bare few hours through sleep.  
  
Their return to Skyhold had been a great relief to a weary Inquisitor. There was sheer bliss in relaxing into a bath and scrubbing away the dust and dirt that had almost become a permanent fixture on sun-kissed skin. The comfort of a warm, clean bed, of sitting in front of a fireplace, eating from a proper kitchen. All of these were things that one could probably have spent a great deal of time enjoying.  
  
Instead Lavellan found himself pacing his rooms, clenching and unclenching his hands, trying to pack down the rage that was growing inside of him.  
  
They had attacked his clan. He'd given up everything to pursue his role, and in repayment the humans had attacked his clan. Sending troops didn't feel like enough. He was powerless here -- he should be riding with his forces. He should be on his way to make every shemlin that ever looked at one of his people the wrong way suffer. Instead he was here, dolled up in his ornate clothing, standing in his lavish quarters, doing _nothing._  
  
The fireball hit the ceiling, which was thankfully stone and did not do anything other than leave scorch marks. He let out a growl of frustration at that and shook out his hand, still burning from the magic, trying to regain some control.  
  
After a brief yet heated argument in the war room, Cullen had politely ordered him to retire to his quarters to calm down. The man’s concern was born of a templar worried for the control of a mage. Amusing, like he was going to summon an army of demons to smite the shems instead of just leaving to join the fight and kill them up close and much more personally.  
  
That or maybe he was just scaring his advisors with his sudden violent outburst, after they’d watch him weather through everything that they'd faced previously without so much as batting an eye. But this was _different._  
  
There was a knock on his door, but before he could yell at them to come back later, it had already opened. The large figure that came up the stairwell was not who he’d been expecting.  
  
“Bull.” Lavellan breathed out with a sigh, before turning away with a hand to his temple. “This isn’t a good time.”  
  
“Heard what happened, thought you might need someone to yell at.” Iron Bull said with a shrug, crossing the distance between them some to lean against the stone wall nearby.  
  
Lavellan let out an abrupt kind of laugh, before shaking his head. He purposefully avoided facing Bull while he continued to pace, mind whirring. The man was a tough subject to broach for Lavellan. A single night with the qunari had shaken him to his core, unwilling or unable to process what he had done. To Iron Bull's credit, nothing had changed between them elsewhere, probably part of what made it so difficult for Lavellan to figure out.  
  
They hadn’t talked about it. Iron Bull wasn’t one to press the issue, and Lavellan hadn’t brought it up, actively avoided it, really. He’d hoped it’d be something that he could just forget, pretend like it hadn’t happened, but the qunari’s mere existence was enough to consistently remind him. Not to mention that every time Iron Bull put his hands on him since, he immediately fell back into the same mess their first night had put him.  
  
Bull was unassuming, easy going when he approached the Inquisitor, the elf struggling to scrub the dirt and blood from his armor at the oasis they'd located. It had started simple enough, Bull offering advice on getting out the blood stains, then coming closer to help. Their hands brushing had been nothing, the qunari's arms closing around him had felt too good to refuse. A few simple touches later, and Lavellan was arching into the man, lips and breath stolen in a kiss and soon, his composure was gone and he was a desperate, needy thing in the Iron Bull’s grasp.  
  
He'd snuck into the qunari’s tent because he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t close his eyes without being assaulted by overwhelming memories he couldn't escape. The qunari had been awake, and instead of questioning the Inquisitor’s intentions, had simply gestured for the elf to come to him. He’d obeyed, far too easily to be respectable. He’d found his end through nothing but skillful fingers massaging a hidden, intimate spot within him, a sweaty, tangled mess collapsed across the qunari’s bedroll. Bull hadn’t said a word, just tucked the elf into his side and fallen asleep. In the morning he was gone.  
  
There were barriers, limits. Bull hadn’t fucked him since their first night, didn’t involve himself in any real way at all. It was like a demonstration, showing Lavellan the things he could do, the power he had, without exerting it or acting on his desires. It left Lavellan craving the man, wanting what he’d seen the first night, the control and the dominance and the utter submission he’d found himself so capable of.  
  
Wanting things he was ashamed of. Terrified of the implications, of what it meant, of what he was. So he stayed quiet, defiant. The Iron Bull did not confront him, leaving Lavellan in question about whether his desires were even returned, and that was frustrating all on its own.  
  
That frustration wasn’t what he needed right now, because it easily fed the rage that was simmering inside of him.  
  
“You know, it’s completely possible that these bandits are just a one-off thing. Cullen’s boys will wipe them out, and your elves will be safe.”  
  
“What would my people have that Bandits would be interested in?” Lavellan hissed, spinning from his pacing to approach Bull, clearly still struggling to control himself. “Someone put these shems up to it, I’m sure of it. They are only in danger because I’m the Inquisitor. They are being attacked because of me.”  
  
“So that’s what...this? Is all about? You feeling guilty?” Iron Bull said the words lightly, nothing snide or rude, simply stating the facts. But his words struck a nerve, and Lavellan snarled in frustration, stricken with the urge to throw more fireballs into stone.  
  
"You be silent! None of your Ben-Hassrath mind games right now! Don’t turn this around on me, when I’m just trying to do right by my people!”  
  
“You are talking about abandoning _your people_ to chase after a clan that you haven’t talked or thought about before any of this happened. Your sudden willingness to abandon our push against a fucking _demon army_ , to go take out some bandits that are already being dealt with, does lead one to question just what is going through your head right now, Ben-Hassrath or no.”  
  
“So what, my advisors sent you to talk circles around me and straighten me out?”  
  
“Your advisors have very little to do with me coming here.” Bull said, pushing himself off of the wall to stalk towards Lavellan. Some of the anger-infused bravery dissipated as the qunari towered over him, and the elf scowled as he took a step back. “You acting like a tantruming child is to thank for that.”  
  
Didn’t matter that Bull was right, that he was acting like a fool and letting his temper get the best of him. He was too frustrated to see past that, too angry to make any sense, and too _furious_ that Bull would dare call him on it. There was no magic involved when he threw the punch, lunging at the qunari and aiming a sharp fist up at the man’s face.  
  
It wasn’t a smart move. Physical combat without the aid of magic wasn’t his thing, the punch was sloppy and the qunari saw it coming a mile away. A huge hand grabbed Lavellan’s wrist before he made contact, and all at once he was overwhelmed, Iron Bull twisting his arm behind his back, spinning him and slamming him into the stone wall behind him.

Lavellan let out a frustrated shout, bucking against the huge body that pressed against him from behind, accomplishing nothing but a further twisting of his arm that hurt terribly. He wanted to retaliate, wanted to fight, but that was being denied him absolutely. He breathed for a moment, concentrating on hauling up magic for some kind of response, but that was knocked out of him with a firm hand on the back of his head, shoving his face hard into the stone.  
  
“Care to rethink that, Boss?” Iron Bull asked, voice low and threatening into a pointed ear.  
  
“Fuck you.” Lavellan hissed through gritted teeth, earning a chuckle from the big man behind him. He tried to let some of his frustration die, but it was still there under the surface, even as Bull restrained him so completely. It was almost enough to distract him from how the qunari was pressed against him, how he could feel the heat from the man’s body so acutely as he was pinned. Almost enough to withstand the arousal that was mercilessly clawing at him. Almost, but not quite.  
  
“If you are so worried that Cullen’s men are going to overlook a scheme in the background, then let me send some of my men out with them. They’ll dig deeper, and if your gut feeling is right, they’ll find out who is responsible for the bandit attacks.”  
  
That completely deflated Lavellan, all at once his stress, his panic, his anger rushed out of him. He sagged in the hold Bull still kept him in, swallowed hard as his rage was replaced entirely with guilt. Guilt that he had been considering how to attack Bull only moments before.  
  
“Y-you’d do that?” He asked quietly, eyes fluttering closed.  
  
Bull’s grip on his arm and head let up a bit, not enough to free him, but the painful hold slackened to make it more comfortable. “Yes.” The qunari said, his voice deep and close to Lavellan’s ear, making him shiver. “I’ll even pretend to be indifferent to the fact that you’d plan to leave before you’d ask for help.”  
  
Lavellan whimpered a soft apology, but before he could say anything more Bull was moving him. Big hands grabbed his his hands and pulled them up above his head, spun him in place and pinned him there easily, body pressed tightly against Lavellan. They’d been in this position, in this very spot before. Last time, Iron Bull had been giving Lavellan an out, a warning before he’d taken him to bed. So caught up in his desire, the thrall of the qunari, Lavellan had disregarded those warnings.  
  
It hadn't been until the morning after that he’d regretted not heeding them. When the guilt and the shame had sunk in, when he realized how weak and wanton he became when The Iron Bull was involved.  
  
He was right back where he started, because under the qunari’s scrutiny, pressed so firmly into him, his mind was rapidly losing focus beyond the arousal that was taking over. Thoughts rapidly crossed his mind, considering what he could do or say to best regain the qunari’s approval. If he could coax a kiss out of the man -- if there could be more to have after said kiss.  
  
Despite his trembling, his obvious responses, Bull did nothing, just watched him with that steady eye, and Lavellan finally whimpered, trying to put some thought into the subject at hand. “Most people in the Inquisition would rather forget that I’m Dalish, never mind offer to help my people when they need it.” He managed to get out.  
  
“That’s not true.” Iron Bull said with a frown, tightening his hold on Lavellan’s wrists slightly. “You go out of your way to never mention it, you avoid it in conversation. You never bring up your people, your culture. You act _ashamed_ of it. If you were proud of it, do you not think your people would be proud of it as well?” Lavellan swallowed, tried to think of a retort, tried to think of a case where Bull was wrong, where he had been proud of his heritage. Failed. Bull could tell when he’d given up trying to argue. “So the real question is, why is someone who isn’t proud of his people so desperate to defend them? If you have no love for your clan, why lose your mind with the need to protect them?”  
  
“I love my clan.” Lavellan argued, though the words rang hollow and Bull gave him a dry look for his efforts.

“If you’re going to lie to me, I’m leaving.” Bull said, and part of Lavellan wanted to sneer at the threat, that he didn’t want Bull here anyways. But that was a defence mechanism, because he really didn’t want the qunari to leave. He wanted a lot of things, but all of them involved the man staying.  
  
“I don’t _hate_ my clan.” Lavellan finally conceded, leaning his head back to rest it against the rough stone, trying to escape eye contact with the qunari and failing. “They are the closest I’ve ever had to family.”  
  
“But they’re not your actual family. You have no siblings, no mother or father within the clan at all.”  
  
Lavellan didn’t want to consider just how Bull knew that, but it didn’t seem beyond the man’s abilities as a spy. Funny that no one else had cared to bring that up before. “My power’s manifested very young. My original clan already had its mages. I was sent to Lavellan because it didn’t have a second. I...am not sure if I even remember my parents.”  
  
“Not sure?” Bull asked. As he spoke, a large hand reached down to brush some dark hair from Lavellan’s face, tucked it behind an ear. It was a gentle kind of gesture, and the elf immediately recognized it for the reward it was.  Encouragement to talk, to open up, release the bundle of pain he was holding within his chest. Even if it was some simple form of manipulation, he didn’t care. He immediately pressed his cheek into Iron Bull’s hand, earning a small twitch of a smile across the man’s lips.  
  
“I remember the day I came to the clan. I looked over my shoulder, and saw the man that brought me leaving with a halla. I don’t know if it was my father or not. I hope not.”  
  
“Why is that?”  
  
“Because he didn’t even look over his shoulder or wave goodbye.” Lavellan said, voice tight as he frowned at the memory. “I’d hope that a parent would at least...regret. Would have contacted me later to check on me. But..nothing.” He sighed, levelling a look at Bull. “I might as well have been raised under the Qun.”  
  
“Well, not really.” Bull grunted, “As good as you look bound, the life of a Saarebas is not something I would wish on you.” He said with sad sort of fondness in his voice, before adding. “Maybe your parents just really didn’t like magic?”  
  
“The First in my clan insinuated that I hurt people when my power manifested.” Lavellan finally said quietly, “Suggested I killed my parents. Would make sense of why my old clan would want to wash their hands of me. I don’t know, it’s that’s just what he said, I was too young to remember much and my Keeper would never tell me.” He finally sighed, taking a moment to nuzzle his cheek back into Iron Bull’s hand.  
  
“Your First sounds like an asshole.” Iron Bull said bluntly, and Lavellan smiled.  
  
“He was...adored amongst the clan. He was a healer. His magic was gentle, it helped people, and everyone loved him for his kindness. I was...a weapon. I served my purpose when there was a threat. I made them uneasy the rest of the time. When shems would circle our camp, it was my power that scared them away. When we were attacked, I would be the one with the most blood on my hands. When slavers kidnapped several young girls, it was _me_ they sent to rescue them.”  
  
Bull was quiet, watching Lavellan struggle to deal with the emotions building, watching him fall apart and holding him in place all the while, offering strength instead of meaningless words of comfort. “I take it the slaver’s weren’t successful.”  
  
“No.” Lavellan said quietly, shaking his head. “But the elves I saved, they were just _girls_ , barely adults. They watched me roast a man from the inside out, watched me burn a hole through a human’s chest while he screamed for mercy. The ones they hurt, they were angry enough to be glad. Others were just as scared of me as they were the slavers.” He laughed then, and it was almost bitter. “My Keeper sent me to the conclave shortly after. Said that some time would help mend the hurt. Not just theirs, but mine too.”  
  
“You still feel responsible for their safety, but you don’t want to go back.”  
  
Lavellan took a moment to think about that, before he shook his head. “I don’t. But I don’t want to cause any more of their pain. They are not a violent clan, they keep to themselves, hide away. They deserve safety.”  
  
“Then I will send my men in the morning. They’ll make sure they get it.” Bull said fondly, touching Lavellan’s hair again. “So stop fretting, stop torturing yourself with the past. You’ve got plenty of new torture waiting ahead of you with that demon army and all, you don’t need to add more to it.”  
  
Lavellan swallowed, nodded, his skin feeling hot and sensitive when Iron Bull’s hand fell to his neck, fingering the soft skin there lightly. He arched himself into the larger man’s touch, making himself available, tilting his head up to try and reach the qunari’s mouth with his own, denied by the height difference and his arms still being pinned above him. _Frustrating._  
  
“Speaking of torturing yourself.” Bull practically drawled then, letting his hand fall down from Lavellan’s neck to the front collar of his shirt, undoing the clasps with one large hand, exposing smooth skin underneath. Lavellan tipped his head back, letting out a soft moan when Bull leaned down to close lips over his throat, repeating the noise as the qunari nipped at pale flesh. After soothing it with the flat of his tongue, Iron Bull pulled back to catch Lavellan’s gaze squarely. “Which of your clan was it that taught you submission was shameful?”  
  
Lavellan drew in a surprised breath, the question effectively dumping a bucket of cold water on him. His attraction to the qunari was enough to overpower his shame, but only if he could be forced to forget for a short period of time. Confronting it was not something he was willing to do. "I don't know what you mean." He said quietly, trying to pull his hands from Iron Bull's grip, suddenly shy and embarrassed and wishing to pull his shirt closed.  
  
The qunari didn't release him however, fingers instead trailing to the marks he'd only just left on slender collar bones. He didn't validate Lavellan's lie, continuing instead. "Was it your First? The gentle, kind man that you trusted implicitly?" A sharp intake of breath, and Lavellan's eyes refused to meet Iron Bull's gaze. He'd hit the nail on the head and he knew it. "How old were you?"  
  
"I would never let someone rape me." Lavellan growled, struggling to free his hands again, the action as futile as the last attempt. "I am not _weak._ "  
  
"No, I'm sure he made sure you consented, so that he could use it against you later. I'm sure he was kind until that wasn't enough to control you. You're so eager to please, so desperate to be wanted. He manipulated you. And when you finally broke free of him, stood up for yourself, he probably threatened to turn the entire clan against you if you exposed him." Bull's words were soft, a careful whisper against a pointed ear, hot breath tickling as much as the light brush of dry lips. His single eye watching carefully for each unsubtle reaction that proved his accuracy. "Tell me I'm wrong."  
  
Lavellan was shaking, hands clenching and unclenching above his head. "You're wrong." He whispered, obeying, his voice unable to raise any higher without breaking. "I'm not _weak._ "  
  
"I never said that you were." Bull said quietly, before leaning down to claim the elf’s lips in a kiss. At first, Lavellan resisted, defied the man's intentions and tried to struggle in his grasp. But after several long moments of nothing but the gentlest of coaxing, lips tugging at his, a soft tongue teasing pursed lips, a light nibble on exposed flesh, Lavellan's resistances crumbled.  
  
He practically whimpered into the qunari's mouth when he broke, overwhelmed by the kiss that followed, by the confidence in which Iron Bull devoured him. At some point, Iron Bull released his hands, and they immediately found themselves wrapping around a strong neck. With little urging his legs parted as he was pulled upwards, pinned between the wall and the qunari, legs wrapping around strong hips, body trembling as Iron Bull rubbed their groins together.  
  
When Lavellan finally broke away, it was driven by need for air, and he panted heavily against the qunari's neck, dragging in breath even while lips fell across scarred skin. As he panted, Iron Bull's lips fell to his shoulder, kissing and biting, while hands slid down his sides. "I would not lust for someone _weak._ " Iron Bull finally growled against his skin. "You are anything but that."  
  
Lavellan whimpered as teeth sunk into his shoulder, feeling naked and exposed, so completely bared to the qunari he didn't think it possible to hide anything from him at all. "I was fourteen." He finally whispered against Iron Bull's shoulder, lips pressing kisses as he spoke. "I just wanted to be loved. He said he understood me, that he was like me." He whispered, before fingers clenched against Iron Bull's skin, and his voice hardened. "He was _nothing_ like me. I finally told him that if he touched me again I would kill him in front of the entire clan, consequences be damned. He was a coward, and because of him I learned to trust no one."  
  
"You were so shy. You still blush and stutter when Dorian makes comments to you. Yet you flirted openly with me." Iron Bull growled against his ear, nipping it lightly, nuzzling it softly as he spoke. "You baited me, tempted me since the first time we spoke in Haven. Why?"  
  
"You were honest." Lavellan breathed, shivering as Iron Bull's hands slid up his back, pulling his shirt down his arms and off, fully revealing his chest to large, exploring hands. "Everyone who bedded you bragged about it for days, even as they limped around." Bull snorted as Lavellan smiled into his shoulder, pressing slender hands down Iron Bull's back, pausing to test the texture of each scar he encountered. "You were used to being lusted after. I...just flirted because...you wouldn't judge me for it. You made it a game." He breathed sharply into the qunari's neck when fingers found his nipples. "A fun one."  
  
"You didn't think I'd follow through. You were surprised."  
  
"I...was."  
  
"Did you fantasize about me, little Inquisitor?" The qunari asked, his voice so low that Lavellan couldn't help but squirm against him, suddenly aching for any kind of contact. "Did you think about what it would be like with me?"  
  
"Yesss." Lavellan moaned, throwing his head back when Iron Bull bit at his throat, moaning as heavy hands squeezed and massaged his ass through the fabric of his pants. "I didn't do you justice."  
  
"But I scared you." Bull said then, and though the words weren't sexual, his tone stayed the same, his hands just as pressing, driving Lavellan's need just as much. "I scared you because you wanted to submit to me like you promised you'd never submit again. Because you'd locked that part away, and all I have to do is _touch_ you and you want to respond to me." Bull purred, pressing Lavellan hard against the wall even as he began to pull at the laces of his pants, sliding hands against smooth skin and drawing a ragged moan from the elf in his grasp. "So you didn't know what to do, you thought if you avoided me--"  
  
"That I could forget and move on." Lavellan breathed, squirming to try and aid the qunari in the removal of his pants, desperate at this point. He reached down between them to wrestle with the larger man's belt, pleasantly surprised when there was no objection from Iron Bull as he freed the clasp. Lavellan’s pants were shucked off one leg, hanging off the other even as he reached inside loosened trousers to rub his palm against a heat that was huge and thick and terribly hard. Bull groaned in response, angling his hips to rock into the elf’s hands.

"You didn't want to forget. You kept coming back. You kept _testing_ me, to see if I was like him. To see if I'd try to use you, try and shame you with the power you gave me." Iron Bull grunted the words before claiming Lavellan's mouth, seizing it in something so absolutely dominating that Lavellan's mind deserted him. He was nothing but eager flesh for the qunari to have, desperate and craving for whatever his lover would bestow. Both hands were wrapped around Iron Bull's length, stroking slowly, squeezing and massaging, weighing the heavy balls below appreciatively, encouraging the qunari forward. "So little elf," Iron Bull breathed as he pulled away, "Have I passed your test? Will you let me give you what you need?"  
  
"I need..." Lavellan slurred, pupils wide, dilated with the heat that coiled inside him. "Yes. Give me what I need, everything." He panted, squeezing the qunari's length as he felt it jerk in his hands at the affirmation. He felt happiness wash over him that he had such an effect on Iron Bull, that the other craved his submission as much as he craved giving it.  
  
"If you have any problems, if you have any fears..." The qunari began, finally reaching down to withdraw Lavellan's hands, pulling them behind his back as he lifted him from the wall, carrying him to the bed. "You come to _me_. No more running, no more avoiding. Understood?"  
  
"Yes Bull." Lavellan sighed as he was deposited on his front into the blankets, lifting his head up and resting on his elbows as he watched the qunari fish around for the bag he had left under the bed their first night. Lavellan had known it'd been left there, but hadn't touched it. He had promised himself he would remove it, but never had. Now he regretted missing his chance to find out what all was inside of it.  
  
Iron Bull removed two sets of cuffs and a large vial from it, placing them decidedly in front of Lavellan for the mage to examine.  
  
"You'll look good in leather." Bull said with a grin as he settled on the edge of the bed, reaching out to swat Lavellan's arse with a firm hand. "Let's get you comfortable."  
  
Lavellan shivered when big hands settled onto him, sliding down his back appreciatively before starting to draw him into position. Hands on his thighs brought his knees underneath him, and soon his ass was in the air, fully exposed and drawing a dark flush to his cheeks as Iron Bull's hands smoothed over it. His cheek was pressed against his pillow as his arms were drawn back, and soon the qunari was cuffing his ankles and wrists together on either side. It forced his back to bow, made his position absolutely obscene and he shivered as he squirmed, testing the restraints. Bull's hands between his thighs brought his legs apart wide, and there was no doubt what was going to happen to him like this.  
  
"Alright, little elf." Bull asked pleasantly while he popped the vial to coat his fingers in oil. Lavellan's response was an affirmative sort of hum, and the qunari lowered his head to press lips to a quivering hip. "Remember the watchword I gave you last time?"  
  
"Katoh." A soft voice. Lavellan was already sinking into a comfortable state of bliss under the qunari’s attention. So easy for him to reach that head space.  
  
"You remember what it's used for?"  
  
"To stop if it I can't take it."  
  
"Do you know why I give you a special word for that?" Lavellan wanted to be annoyed with the questions, but when slick fingers circled the bud of his entrance, he found that frustration melting away, replaced with need instead.  
  
"So I can fight you if I want to." He breathed out, rewarded with a finger slowly being pressed inside of him. The abundance of oil made the slow slide smooth, even though he struggled with the stretch at first.  
  
"Sometimes what you need, is to fight and be conquered." Iron Bull spoke softly into his hip, the stubble of his jaw a rough texture, countering the slick wetness of his tongue when he suckled pale skin. "So you can fight, and struggle, and tell me no. You can act proud, say you hate it, call me a dirty qunari savage. Whatever you like." The words were so unlike the soft kisses on his hip, travelling to his lower back. Completely opposite to the careful way Iron Bull was pressing his finger in and out. Perhaps there would be a time he would be able to find it within himself to fight this, but not right now. "It's so you can play any role you want to play, but when you need an out, you have it. No questions asked, no consequences. Got it?"  
  
Lavellan's 'yes' was turned into a moan when Bull mercilessly thrust his finger into his prostate, massaging there for several long moments, a lecherous grin across his lips as he watched Lavellan shudder against the pleasure. "Please Bull." Lavellan groaned, "I need more touching and less talking."  
  
"Is that so?" Bull said with some amusement, and much to Lavellan's despair, he withdrew his hand. One slid up his chest, tweaking nipples that were pert and straining, while his slick hand reached underneath to cup the elf's leaking cock. "Well if that's the case, then we better go over the rules."  
  
Lavellan groaned as he was stroked, slowly and carefully by a large, slick hand. "Rules?"  
  
"Like the first one. No popping off without permission." Bull was _grinning_ into the skin of his back as he spoke, even as he continued to stroke the elf who was suddenly concerned about how close to orgasm he was. "You can beg me, of course. I'm quite fond of begging."  
  
"Bulllll." Lavellan hissed, trying not to thrust into the tight fist that was teasing him. "How am I supposed to...? When you're...?"  
  
"You'll learn control." Bull growled, suddenly tightening his grip across the base of Lavellan's length, enough to be painful and draw a shocked sort of garble from the elf, successfully pushing back his orgasm. "You can ask me for help, if you need it. You can beg for it. I told you, I like begging."  
  
Lavellan squirmed, pressing his forehead into the pillow for a moment and biting back a few choice words when Bull's hands drew down to his raised hips again. "Do you have more evil rules?"  
  
"Yep. No magic. You think you can just phase out of your binds? That's cheating."  
  
Lavellan groaned, because he had been considering just that. "Yes Bull." No arguing this time, and Bull continued.

"The last one is: If I ask you a question, you answer it quickly, and truthfully." His voice was firm, even as his breath ghosted over Lavellan's backside, lips tickling the curve of his ass. "I'll know if you're lying, and I'll walk away and leave you right where you are if you do."  
  
Lavellan nodded into the pillow after a moment, squeezing his eyes tight and breathing out his agreement. In reward, Bull's tongue slid across his slickened entrance, tickling it teasingly. "Gods, Bull." He breathed, trembling, amazed that the qunari was so comfortable to do such a thing.  
  
"Do you have any rules of your own? Any hard-lines you don't want me to cross?" Bull asked, his lips still close, against sensitive skin, and Lavellan cried out when he suckled at his entrance when he was done speaking, pressing his tongue tight, testing the muscle there enough to slip past it.  
  
"I don't...I..." Lavellan was having a good deal of trouble getting his mind to work, hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to focus. "Yes. Water." He finally managed to get out, and it earned a slight reprieve, as Bull raised his head, straightening enough to look at his face over his shoulder.  
  
"No fucking you in a hot spring, then?"  
  
It was questioned in an amused sort of way, Bull clearly asking for specifics, and Lavellan's breathing was heavy as he met Bull's eye over his shoulder. "N-not like that. Drowning. No...sticking my head under water. Or dumping it in my face. Or pouring it over a cloth over my--"  
  
"Shite. That's re-educator grade torture you're talking." Bull interrupted him, a large hand spreading out across Lavellan's shoulder in a soothing kind of way. "How do you even _know_ about those types of limits?"  
  
Lavellan wasn't sure if it was a question he had to answer truthfully or not, but at this point, Bull knew most of it already. Details didn't matter. Talking about it, seeing Bull's outrage, somehow made it easier. "He'd take me to the river, balance me on these two rocks." He explained quietly. "Hold my head under while he fucked me. Said it made me tight when I started to fight it."  
  
"You were a _child._ " Iron Bull's voice was so angry, so completely outraged, and yet Lavellan felt nothing but warmth from it. The violence the qunari was feeling wasn't for him.  
  
"Took the fight right out of me, when he threatened me with that." Lavellan said quietly, before he offered a little smile. "So maybe none of that, because I'd possibly break the no magic rule and hurt you pretty bad if you tried it. Even though I trust you."  
  
"Good to know." Bull said softly, but his scowl was still visible. "I won't use your fears against you. I don't need that to control you."  
  
"I know." Lavellan said quietly, pressing himself against Bull's hands. "I figured that out already."  
  
"Good." Bull grunted, before returning to his original position, using large hands to spread Lavellan's cheeks to expose his entrance once again. "Now where was I? Right." He drew his tongue slowly across twitching muscle, before grinning against soft skin. "I was about to waive the first rule, so I can drain every drop of cum in your body. Then I'm going fuck you til you're incoherent and fill you with mine instead."  
  
"Oh fuck yesssss." Lavellan moaned, pressing back eagerly when Bull's tongue breached him, straining against hands that held his hips tightly, stopping him from fucking himself as he desperately wanted to do.  
  
When Bull's tongue had driven him mad, the qunari replaced it with a slickened finger again, this time pulling back Lavellan's length to suck it into his mouth while he massaged him from within. Thrashing and shouting into the pillow, Lavellan could barely piece together words enough to beg the big man to keep going. _Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop._  
  
Bull didn't. He was merciless, and his mouth was insufferably skilled at teasing the length he engulfed with tongue and lips. When the elf finally came with a sharp cry and a shivering body, straining against the restraints and trembling his thanks, Iron Bull groaned his approval. He swallowed Lavellan's seed greedily, but didn't stop his suckling even when it became painfully sensitive for the poor elf. Instead he added a second finger, pushed him further, and found the second orgasm much easier to rip from his smaller bedmate.  
  
When he added a third finger, Lavellan's body was practically boneless, relaxed and accepting to whatever Iron Bull did to it. It was what the qunari had wanted, the easiest way to open up the smaller body to be able to accept him.  
  
"You want me to claim you, little elf?" Bull asked, earning an eager moan from an weary Lavellan. "Want me to fill you up?"  
  
"Please Bull." The elf panted, dark hair falling across his face as he squirmed, Iron Bull's fingers so much, and yet he knew he was asking for more. "I want to come with you inside me." He whispered, "Pleaseeee." A soft moan, a desperate edge to a low voice, and Iron Bull groaned.  
  
He removed his fingers, dribbled oil across his length before smoothing it with a fist for a moment, the first time he'd been touched since Lavellan's hands had been removed. Necessary for his control, which was sure to rapidly diminish once he got inside his eager Inquisitor. When he pressed the thick crown of his length against Lavellan's twitching entrance, the mage let out a low groan as he stretched around it.  
  
His fingers clenched hard, he willed his body to stay relaxed, even as Iron Bull's hands soothed down his back and thighs. "That's it, little elf. You've got this." He said softly, pressing in slowly. "Look at how you're opening for me. So good."  
  
Once the head sunk in, the rest was a slow, agonizing slide all the way down. Lavellan was only barely remembering to breathe, crying out into the pillow, shaking heavily. It hurt, but it was manageable, not a tearing or ripping of flesh, but a fullness, a complete overwhelming fullness that he couldn't match to any other feeling in the world. Only Bull could provide this, and it was something he would easily find himself becoming horribly addicted to.  
  
"So good..." He groaned, mirroring Iron Bull's sounds as the qunari sunk deeper into him. It felt like forever before he was fully pressed into him. "Bull." The shortening of the man's name became a chant across Lavellan's lips, the only thing he could get out as he was undone.  
  
"Mine." Iron Bull growled, hands tightening around Lavellan's waist as he waited, balls-deep inside the elf, letting the tremors and spasms subside as he let him adjust. "You're _mine_ right now." He announced, before finally pulling out part way, shoving back in with enough force to make the elf beneath him cry out loudly.  
  
"Yes! I'm yours!" He cried out, thrashing as the qunari's thrusts continued. They became longer, pulling out further, slamming in harder. His voice was filling the room as he yelled, body rocked by the motions of their rutting, the hands around his middle keeping him in place as he was completely, irrevocably claimed.  
  
His length hardened again, bouncing with the motions of their bodies, jerking with each thrust across his prostate even though it was left completely untouched. There was nothing more needed except the pain/pleasure of their sex. He was overwhelmed by his orgasm, his vision blackening as he screamed his finish.  
  
It was several long minutes, passed in a weary haze, his body relaxed into a receptacle for Iron Bull's needs, before the qunari's thrusts grew short, spastic. "Fucking, blighted..." Bull's words descended into qunlat curses, jumbled and harsh as he found his end.  
  
A sharp bloom of heat, deep inside Lavellan made him groan. Bull's thrusts slowed, breathing heavily as he released. He finally came to a stop, hands soft and comforting as they smoothed down Lavellan's back, offering soothing words and compliments to the exhausted elf. When he withdrew, he left a mess behind, pearly white leaking from Lavellan's twitching hole, sliding down his thighs.  
  
"You look damn good." Iron Bull finally spoke, leaning over the elf to tuck hair from his face, earning a tired smile. "Just like this...dripping with _me_." He grinned then, rubbing his stiffening length against Lavellan's hip as he groaned. "I could fuck you all night, little elf."  
  
Lavellan whimpered, squirming helplessly against his restraints, squeezing the abused muscles of his entrance and blushing heavily when he felt more of Bull's seed leak out down the skin of his thighs. "I can't..."  
  
"Not yet." Bull said with a grin, reaching down to release the restraints from each other, helping Lavellan straighten out as he collapsed into the bed. "We'll work on your endurance." He chuckled, carefully massaging stiff limbs, arranging the elf onto his side, stripping away the soiled blanket underneath them.  
  
As the man dimmed the candles, Lavellan let out a whimper as he watched The Iron Bull's naked back. "Bull? Can you...stay the night?"  
  
His voice was quiet, vulnerable, and Iron Bull turned to sink into the bed next to the elf. "Of course I can." He said. He had to take a moment to arrange the pillows beneath him, laying on his back to accommodate his horns. Raising himself up on an elbow, he curled an arm underneath the slender body of his lover, pulled him in close to his side. When Lavellan relaxed into him, he lowered his head to claim a long, slow kiss. A hand slid across Lavellan’s cooling skin, before slipping between his legs, smearing the wetness he found there, dipping fingertips into a still loosened entrance drawing tired, needy sounds out of the slender mage.  
  
When the elf’s lips nipped at Iron Bull’s throat, begged him for mercy, the qunari finally relented, pulling him close as he laid back onto his back. They lay in silence for a long while, Bull soon beginning to doze off in complete comfort, Lavellan lost in peaceful thoughts. He felt no need to compare Iron Bull to any previous experiences this time. There was no stress, no concern. He was so completely relaxed against scarred grey skin, and it was a wonderful feeling.  
  
"Thank you, Iron Bull." He whispered softly to the skin under his lips.  
  
To his surprise, the qunari responded, his voice a low, relaxed kind of rumble. "No problem, Boss."

 

The report Lavellan received was a mixture from both Cullen's men and the Chargers. The bandits had been driven back successfully. There had been only one casualty amongst Lavellan's people -- the First of his clan. A group of bandit assassins had apparently evaded the massacre that wiped the rest of their bretheren out, catching the elf unaware outside of the camp. His body had been mutilated and pinned to a tree for everyone to find. Cullen speculated that it had been payback for all that the bandits had lost, but no further trace of surviving bandits had been found.  
  
The clan mourned their loss. Lavellan did not.  
  
The Charger's efforts at unearthing the truth behind the attacks lead to a promising lead pointing towards the nobles of Wycome, and Leliana was happy to send agents to snoop about.  
  
Lavellan laid across Bull's lap on the couch of his quarters as the qunari read the report aloud to him. The sound of the man’s voice was a soothing balm, despite the violence of what he read. He was smiling as he pulled the man’s length from his trousers, licking and suckling the crown teasingly while the qunari continued to read -- his voice growing decidedly rougher as he took more into his mouth. It wasn't until Iron Bull had finished the report that he finally groaned and seized the elf's head, demanding his reward in a far less teasing manner.  
  
And Lavellan was content, locked in the man's grasp as his mouth was filled and his jaw was stretched. There was no shame as Bull worked the back of his throat, guided Lavellan to use his hands on the thick length that would never fit in his mouth. This, he could trust. Honest and open, there was nothing in this that would ever be used to hurt him.

That was all he needed.  


**Author's Note:**

> I of course, live for feedback. If you liked it or if you know a way I could improve, please let me know via comments! :3


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